The Mutiny Against My Mothers Mittens

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(friggen blogger formatter crapshit)

A few spots of yellow light marked the pebbled pavement; I look over my shoulders.
Nothing but the silhouettes of the underbrush
> and the tall turgid trees rustling in the bitter breeze.
My breath had made my scarf wet with condensation,
> cold and snotty, all the while it’s wool rasping my neck.

I felt comfortable though, my car is less than fifty feet away.
Also, I left it unlocked so that I wouldn’t need to fumble for my keys
> if I was seen.
It’ wasn’t that what I was doing was bad,
> No, not at all.
I just didn’t want anyone I knew
> to see me by myself
> with my mother’s mittens
> clenching the clasp of my camera

The night nips nicely at my ears,
> and against her word, as planned,
I cast my Mother’s mittens aside;
> for I knew of a better lover.
Having dealt decently with that,
I lift my tripod from my knapsack
> spread it’s legs apart,
> extending her cold, smooth appendages
> and fastened them to her body.
I hold my camera in my hands,
Her shutter release so pleasing,
Her lens so sturdy,
> it’s grips so gripping
> with it’s sight so seeing.
And I pressed my face up against her back,
> My eyes through hers through mine.

And…yes, I agree.
> it seemed all too simple a decision, too quick, too hasty.
So simply sold and scrapped,
left to lie in the shade of the soil.
It’s just that,
they seemed to get in the way.
With those mittens, one could not speak freely,
And I would be stripped of my power as a photographer,
> no longer a being of free will.
And dealing with dexterity, or lack of it,
Like trying to unlock a door, or lighting a cigarette!
Or unzipping a coat or tying up loose shoelaces?!
I, I mean Godammit! Who in the right Fucking mind would invent such useless –

Oh dear…
I am so sorry,
I apologize for my behaviour; it’s just that I –
What I mean to say is,
The mutiny against my Mother’s mittens was not unjust,
And that I acted on sheer common sense!
The era of mittens has come and past,
They have outlived there time,
> and that in this modern world, none should suffer as we have hence.
Your Honour, please, I beg of you.
If not for justice, for love!
That is all I have to say,
> Thank you for your time.


yourebelteen said...

Lovely. It's not clear what situation you are in though, you switch from present tense to past.

Anonymous said...

Possibly because the convicted is bad at telling stories.